This is How It Feels to Be Free
by Penbrydd
Summary: [RND] Ishida is wallowing in in selfdoubt on the bank of the moat surrounding Sereitei, until Captain Ukitake interrupts his reverie. Heavy art, heavy philosophy, some nudity.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer:**Bleach is the property of Kubo Tite. I just borrow his characters and play with them._

_**Author's Note:** This is a completely crack pairing. I know that. But when I looked at the glaring similarities and the equally glaring differences, it became irresistable. I don't know if this will become sexual in any way, but I do know that Ukitake dislikes wearing clothing when it isn't necessary. I mean, really, do you have any idea how hard it is to clean blood out of a white haori?_

_You have been warned. Take that as you will.  
_

* * *

It was about midday as Ishida gazed across the moat at the dusty streets of Rukongai. Ichigo was off pretending to be important and Rukia was slowly recovering at her brother's house. The others were probably sightseeing or harassing Captain Hitsugaya. It would take them a good long while to notice that he was gone; they never noticed even when he was there. Well, that wasn't quite true; Inoue noticed when he was there, but she was also a bit much for his nerves, most days. 

He leaned back on his elbows and tried not to think about how hard it would be to get the grass stains out of his very white Quincy clothes. As that slightly nauseating thought stretched across his mind again, a shadow extended toward him. He looked up, surprised, and squinted his eyes against the sun.

"I didn't mean to frighten you," the tall, lank figure said. "I wasn't expecting anyone else to be here, or I wouldn't have come. I'm supposed to be in bed -- at least that's what I'm told -- but I'm tired of being sick, and the day is such a lovely one."

The tall figure sat down next to the slightly grass-stained Quincy, bringing him out of the path of the sunlight and suddenly into focus. "Ukitake Jyuushirou. I don't think we've been properly introduced. You know me as just another Shinigami captain, and I know you as just another ryoka friend of Kurosaki. It's hardly the way to enjoy the company of another who is clearly also hiding from his associates." Ukitake smiled in commiseration.

Ishida was stunned at the straightforward declaration of the softspoken captain. "Ishida Uryuu. No one of any consequence." He looked quizically at Ukitake. "Is there just one reason, then, for a man to sit in the sunlight and watch the dust on the streets of Rukongai?"

Ukitake laughed until he coughed, then quietly spit blood into the grass. "No, that would be a limiting perspective. There is something about the look on your face that encourages me to read myself into you, I think. You're also here alone, and you keep glancing about as though you expect someone to ruin the experience."

He hadn't noticed that he was nervous until the Captain mentioned it. "You are very perceptive, Ukitake-taichou. They are very different, and I am never entirely comfortable with them. My ... associates ... are full of life and drama, and they rarely stop to think. They live fast. They will die young. I am, perhaps, afraid that I will grow old watching them, and grow even older after they are gone."

The captain nodded thoughtfully as he gazed across the water. "There is no place for formality on a day like this, Ishida-san. We are two free men, with no obligations, seeking contentment on the banks of a river that separates us from hardship, concern, and the desires of others. I love the smell of the breeze here. I can finally be alive and free. I can pretend, for a little while, that I am a whole man. Let go of your concerns -- your associates will not find you quickly, and if they do, it is because they need you. They need you because you are not like them. You do the things they cannot understand. But for now, there is no one to demand anything from you."

The Quincy was floored by the Shinigami's choices -- first to put aside formality, meaning that he did not wish to be addressed by his title, and then to raise an outsider to the level of an equal by calling him '-san'. But, still, he raised points that needed to be addressed. "They do not need me; they pity me. I lost the power to help them, Ukitake-san. They will come for me when it is time for them to carry me home. But, you're right: it isn't proper to dirty a day like this with thoughts like that. It would ruin the sound of the water and the smell of the grass."

Ukitake coughed again, in amusement -- it seemed that he was unable to laugh without jarring the congestion in his chest. He reached into the small bag he wore across his shoulder and drew out a tea set wrapped in pink silk with embroidered carnations on it. "Hm, I think the stillness is getting to you. You sound like Shunsui." He smiled at a passing memory. "Perhaps you would like to share some of his tea with me. I promise to brew it with water instead of sake -- I never did understand what he sees in that revolting beverage -- and I'll only ask one small thing in return."

Ishida watched the Shinigami lean down to fill the tiny iron pot with water from the moat, and then start a small fire for it, between them. "What is it you want?" He sounded suspicious.

"Nothing so terrible as what you might imagine. Please, just address me as if I am no one of importance, because here, that is the truth. Shunsui likes to call me Jyuu while we drink his tea. I would be honoured if you would do the same." He filled the tea strainers as he spoke and set them atop the cups, waiting for the water to warm.

The request burned through Ishida as he recognised both its source and its truth. While he preferred to remain as separate as possible from people, insisting on his title from even his ... friends, this was a very different situation. The sick young man at his side was a captain easily twice even Renji's age, very probably older than Captain Kuchiki, who had indubitably seen many others rise and fall. And somehow, despite all that, he was sitting by the river with some ryoka he hardly knew, sharing tea and offering the sort of privilege that indubitably belonged only to his closest friends. As Ukitake had said, here, he was finally a free man, removed from both owing and being owed. "Jyuu..."

The thin man's eyes sparkled brightly as he coughed up more blood, most of which wound up on the grass. "I like the way you say it! It sounds new and sweet, not like when Shunsui says it with that ridiculous lusty accent." He blushed just a bit as he removed his shoes and slipped his feet into the water. "They'd never let me do this at home. My third seat would be all over me in an instant about how the cold water will only make me sicker. But, it feels wonderful on my toes."

Ishida suppressed a snicker at the description of Shunsui, and his face reddened and stretched into a wide eyed smile. Ukitake -- _Jyuu --_ was right about the water, though; it looked like it would feel pleasant. He slipped his own boots off, momentarily enjoying the feeling of having prevailed over fashion for just a moment before plunging his feet into the cool water. "Oh. Oh, wow." For all the years he'd spent standing in that stream with his bow, he'd never done it barefoot. "I suppose that if we're to be free men together, you might call me Uryuu. You are the one with the tea and the good ideas. But what do we do if the wall comes down?"

"That, Uryuu, is why some wise man in the past invented Shunpo. I'm sick, not dead; I'm pretty sure I can move us both before we get lopped off at the knees. And if I can't, what's a knee?" he joked quietly with the young man, carefully using his name to acknowledge that he would accept the offer.

It took a moment for the jest to register, and Ishida paled for a few seconds. Finally he pulled his wits together. "I suppose Inoue could put my legs back on. Of course, that would also involve Inoue looking at my legs -- not a wholly appealing prospect."

The teapot began to rattle as the water boiled, and Ukitake leaned back to remove it from the flame before pouring it. "Inoue?" he asked, neutrally.

"She's a nice girl. I suspect that someday Kurosaki-san will notice her. But, she's too kind -- blames herself for the faults of others, heals enemies that we, ourselves, have felled. And for all the good she's done for me, I... she... It's too much blood." He shook his head, trying and failing to gather his thoughts on the matter.

Ukitake poured the tea and set the pot of water aside. "And what," he asked slyly, "has any of this to do with whether she sees your legs?"

Ishida turned a stunning shade of red and looked into the depths of the water beside his feet. "They're _my_ legs. I prefer them to remain in my pants, where people aren't looking at them. I've taken in the waist of all my pants so they'll fit me but not show too much. You Shinigami all get to wear hakama; people can't just look at your legs unless you want them to."

The Shinigami lifted his feet from the water. "You have thin legs. Just the fact that your pants don't quite touch them at that size gives it away. You're afraid she's going to say something about that, aren't you?" He pulled up one leg of his hakama, revealing his own bone-thin leg. "Shunsui likes to tell me that my legs are girlish. I know he means it as a compliment. I also know that he's wrong. Girls have wider, softer legs -- even that Nanao of his isn't thin like this. But he says it because it makes me smile."

The Quincy sat very still for a few moments, only his eyes moving as they travelled up the captain's leg to re-examine the rest of his body. He hadn't noticed at first, but Jyuu was rather small. At first glance, the clothes seemed to make him larger, but the distance between the clothes and his skin gave lie to his actual size. "You're barely my size, aren't you? Then, you know... You know how it is."

Ukitake smiled and shook his head softly. "No, I really don't, I'm afraid. I've been sick too long to have retained any modesty. Every bit of me has been studied and tested, and I let the Fourth and Twelfth continue, because it's pointless to tell them to stop. It makes them feel better, but I've stopped imagining that any of it will help. It isn't as though this will kill me after all these years -- sometimes it just keeps me in bed. But, because I have no modesty left, I have no need to dress before Shunsui brings me tea. I have no need to return in wet clothing when I wish to hide that I have gone swimming. I dress for the comfort of others."

As the captain began coughing in earnest, Ishida looked on with concern. "Jyuu, are you alright? Is there something I can do?"

Ukitake shook his head before disgorging a lump of congealed and partially-dried blood that struck the edge of his sleeve as he spit it into the grass. He stripped off the white coat and handed it to Ishida. "Hold that in the water for me, so the blood runs out of it. This is why I don't bother to dress." His voice was hoarse, his eyes watering, as he leaned to the side to cough up the last of the blood clot.

Ishida lowered the sleeve into the water, watching the swirls as the blood rinsed out of the cloth. Cold water really was the best solution for that sort of thing, and he supposed that Jyuu knew it well.

Reaching for his tea, the Shinigami wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "Swimming," he gurgled, then sipped the tea and tried again. "I meant to go swimming, today. It's a beautiful afternoon. But, as I said, I wear clothing for the comfort of others."

"I'm interrupting you! I'm so sorry..." Ishida leapt to his feet. "I didn't mean to --"

Ukitake sighed loudly. "Sit down. You're not interrupting anything. I see that I have to be more explicit when I talk to you -- you really are attatched to your sense of propriety, aren't you? I meant to ask if you minded. I don't mind your company, so if you'll pardon my nudity, I think I'll go for a bit of a swim."

_Jyuu isn't kidding about his complete lack of modesty._ He sat back down and contemplated the situation. It wasn't as though there were girls involved, and Jyuu didn't have a body to be envied, if his legs were any indication. In fact, they very likely looked about the same under all the layers. Of course, he wasn't fond of looking at himself, either, but at least it would be a familiar view. He nodded his assent and picked up the second cup of tea.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: **Bleach is the property of Kubo Tite. I just borrow his characters and play with them._

_**Author's Note:** This is a completely crack pairing. I know that. But when I looked at the glaring similarities and the equally glaring differences, it became irresistable. I don't know if this will become sexual in any way, but I do know that Ukitake dislikes wearing clothing when it isn't necessary. I mean, really, do you have any idea how hard it is to clean blood out of a white haori?_

_You have been warned. Take that as you will._

* * *

Ukitake stood, carefully, and began pulling at the knots that held his outfit together. He spoke as the clothing fell away, piece by piece. "Thank you. I would ask you to join me, but I fear you'd run away again. It really is a beautiful day to enjoy the water, if one refuses to allow oneself to be disturbed by the eyes of others."

Ishida had meant to look away, but found himself captured by the sight of the sickly captain's flesh. Jyuu's skin was nearly as pale as his hair, and his entire body reflected the afternoon sun as though he were made of the moon, itself. His ribs showed clearly through his skin, and half-healed bedsores showed a stark red against the sharp white expanse of his hip and shoulder blades. Nonetheless, this was a powerful man who had surrendered his fear and shame to achieve true inner peace. That a naked man could have such bearing was simple proof of that. "Your Shunsui is a lucky man, to have your favour. I am afraid you will never be someone of no consequence, despite your desire to escape, but I'm not going to ask you for anything. You have given me so much to consider..."

The nude Shinigami stretched and sighed as the breeze rolled across his flesh. He looked down at the ashamed and amazed ryoka's bright blue eyes. "You're feeling sorry for yourself, again. And Shunsui is far luckier for all the other things he has, I think, but I am very lucky to have his placid eyes on me when I am at my worst." He reached out and took Uryuu's hand. "Stand with me. We are not so different. It is simply the way of youth, I think, to feel bad about oneself."

Looking up, Ishida saw the older man smiling at him like an old friend. He took the advice and stood, taking note that Jyuu was almost half a foot taller, and probably weighed proportionally what he did. "Six inches and ten kilograms, at a guess," he joked, looking out at the water to avoid noticing how close they stood.

Ukitake pulled back Ishida's sleeve, below the hand he still held. "Good guess, at a glance, but I'm a good deal heavier than I look. I'll call it twenty kilograms. Now, tell me, what else is different?"

"I'm younger, shorter, darker -- never thought I 'd get to say that -- and less ill. You're braver, shameless, self-possessed in ways I can only pretend to... You're a Shinigami; I'm ... I _was_ a Quincy." Ishida shuddered at the last bit. "You're someone, and you want to be no-one. I'm no-one and I want to be someone. No one will remember my name."

"I will remember your name, probably until long after you have died." Jyuu really didn't like to be reminded of his age and the near guarantee that time would continue to pass for centuries, yet, if not millenia. He was rather tired of coughing all the time. "Aside from a few irreparable physical aspects -- notably your height and colouring -- the only real difference is that I am a Shingami and you are not. The rest is a function of age and circumstance, subject to change at any time. 'Jewels tarnish, kingdoms fall', to quote a poet I knew not long past."

"'Death's the rarest prize of all'? She's been dead more than eighty years, Jyuu." Wide blue eyes snapped forward. _Not long past? Renji speaks of forty years as a long time..._

"I had wondered why she stopped writing. Time passes so very quickly, after a while." Ukitake looked across the water, a bit uncomfortably. He was old enough to have met this Quincy's soul eight or ten times as it was recycled. "I believe I meant to swim," he said finally, stepping away.

Ishida nodded and failed to comment until Ukitake had cautiously lowered himself into the water. "Hah. You look like you belong there," he offered as the pale man played in the water, cavorting as if gravity were merely a suggestion rather than a law of nature. He looked around to make certain that no one he knew was coming up behind them. "You really do make that look like fun. Maybe, I will join you."

Ukitake watched the young man blush, considering the water. "It's just cool enough to feel clean without being cold. I'm content to watch the dust spread across the city until you're in the water, if that helps."

"Thanks." Ishida unzipped his shirt and carefully folded it, laying it beside the untidy heap of Jyuu's clothes. He stood and watched the city for some time before even touching his pants. _The water ripples. No one can see. You're just going to go for a swim._ He sighed and opened his pants, slipping out of them and folding them atop his shirt. His briefs were the last thing to go, and he seriously considered not removing them, but wearing them wet under his clothes for the rest of the day was a singularly unappealing idea. He added them to the pile and lowered himself into the water.

"It's not as cold as you'd think, is it?" Ukitake turned back around as he heard Ishida enter the water.

"Yes, it's not. It's a bit deeper though. I suspect that's because I'm not thinking properly. It's a moat. Moats that one can wade across don't repel invasions." He finally removed his glasses, setting them on the stone that separated the grass from the water. "Remind me where I put those when I forget, later. I think I'd rather not know who might be sneaking up on me. Perhaps they'll just kill me before I'm forced to notice."

Ukitake laughed clearly, this time; the sound suited him well, a thin, melodic series of tones, like a nightingale in the distance. "Nearsighted, I take it. I'm afraid I won't be much use to you, then. Centuries of getting nearly all of my excitement from books hasn't done wonders for my distance vision either. I tend to find it incredible that I don't do myself more damage flash stepping into things. It's not much good to go far, when you can't see where you're going."

"God preserve us, we're blind." Ishida rolled his eyes and grumbled.

"May I try them? Aizen-san used to wear glasses to read," his eyes lowered painfully as he mentioned Aizen, "but they were never very popular, here. Perhaps I should give in and get a pair -- violate my one concession to fashion. I've heard there's a girl in the Sixth who makes them."

Ishida realised that there were many more layers of meaning in those brief statements than he could begin to name. In the interest of staying away from loaded topics like Aizen or fashion, he held out his glasses to Jyuu. "Please be careful with them; I've run out of spares after that last fight."

Smiling a decidedly feline smile, Ukitake accepted the glasses. "I won't drop them."

Unfortunately, upon wearing them, he discovered that he really did have much better distance vision than poor Uryuu, and the sudden shift in perspective left him staggering. Pulling the lenses away from his crossed eyes, he flailed a bit in the water before returning the glasses, unharmed. "No," he said, at last, "_now_ we're both blind. Can you see at all in those things?"

With a self-deprecating smirk, Ishida placed his glasses back on the stones. "Perhaps more telling, I can't see at all without them. Human frailty is a terrible thing."

"Put your glasses back on so you can see me pointing and laughing. Frailty is not only a human trait, you might have noticed, and yours is overcome with a simple tool."

Ishida could feel the blood draining from his extremeties as he remembered who he was talking to -- a man who had spent centuries drowning in his own blood, and could still find the strength to berate Captain Kuchiki and stand up to Captain-Commander Yamamoto. Suddenly, the world looked like a lovely place, if only he lived long enough to enjoy it. "You make a good point," he offered, weakly, and totally failed to see the vengeance about to be visited upon him.

* * *

_Woooo... vengeance. I suppose this means there's going to be a frickin' chapter three, too. I might throw in another page of 'Never Speak of This Again', before I get back here._


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer: **__Bleach is the property of Kubo Tite. I just borrow his characters and play with them._**  
Warnings:** Non-sexual Nudity  
**Notes: **Two men and a river; heavy art, heavy philosophy.

* * *

Ukitake swept up a relatively large wave with one arm and sloshed Ishida, dousing the boy thoroughly. Ishida sputtered and dropped below the surface for a moment, struggling to regain his hold on reality. As he bobbed to the surface, again, spitting water, Ishida squinted suspiciously at Ukitake.

"This is exactly why my grandfather taught me never to trust a Shinigami," he spat, and a smirk crept across the corner of his mouth as he returned fire, splashing the captain, who simply laughed, in return.

"You think about too much at once," Ukitake accused, ducking under the water, to surface again behind Ishida. "And you do it far too often." He delivered another splash from behind and then ducked around in front of Ishida as the boy glanced over his shoulder. "It's ruining your reflexes."

Ukitake watched the irritation spread over Ishida's face. The boy was touchy about his skills, especially now.

Ishida's eyes gleamed in cool amusement as enlightenment struck him with the force of a speeding freight train. As the Zen two by four realigned his neurons, he dropped beneath the water and drifted in an almost lazy-seeming way past Ukitake, only to splash the captain with his feet at the most unlikely moment. Control, he remembered, was the key, and poise, the root of all things.

Ukitake laughed and wiped the water out of his eyes, as Ishida surfaced, cocking his head in a challenge. "I know you," the captain said, simply, and the battle began in earnest -- or as much earnest as a splash fight can be said to entail. The two whipped and glided about each other in a constant glittering mist, swirls of water rising and falling, like the essence of Yin and Yang -- the heart of the world revealed in two men playing in the river, like children, albeit very serious children.

Ishida was nothing more than a man, anymore, and Ukitake seemed to be determined to prove that was enough -- suppressing his own instincts toward kidou he would have used with Shunsui, the captain faced the former Quincy, one cripple to another. That very thought moved him to a moment of distraction, and Ishida scored another fantastic slosh.

Finally, Ukitake began to cough again, and as his blood faded into the water, Ishida held out a hand to help him back to shore. Although he didn't need the assistance, Ukitake accepted, knowing it to be a sign of progress. The bitter boy had come a long way in a short time, and continued to look as though he might get even calmer, wiser, and more sensible as the day wore on. Ukitake frequently considered returning to the academy to teach, when he could no longer properly command a division, and days like these made him look upon such an opportunity even more brightly.

But, now, Ishida knelt beside him, wearing nothing but glasses, and looking concerned about only his health. It was a step in the right direction.

He spit into the river and pulled on his haori, before reaching for the teapot again, and putting up more water to heat. "Thank you." The captain patted Ishida's shoulder, and offered him a cup, again. Ishida nodded and accepted the cup with no more than a tilt of his head -- a nearly unnoticeable query into the Shinigami's health. Ukitake flicked one hand, turning back his sleeve and answering the unspoken question -- it was no worse than usual.

Ishida settled back, kneeling on the grass, and looked terribly dismayed as he realised he wasn't wearing pants. His distress and uncertainty were plainly written on his face as he struggled with the idea that he was naked, but that his clothes would stick to him horribly if he put them back on. Ukitake watched quietly, from the corner of his eye, as Ishida regained something like his composure. It was a poor impression, but it was definitely more dignified than a mad bolt for his clothing.

"Jyuu," Ishida asked, after many minutes, "it's all an act, isn't it? Shunsui wears his apathy, so he can't be unsettled, right? So many Shinigami speak of him as being lazy, but there was nothing lazy in the way he fought Chad."

Ukitake smiled and poured the tea. "You're getting closer. It's not an act, any more. He has a very quick mind for decisions, and won't waste time on things that aren't his problem -- or on things that are his problem, but he doesn't see them as problems. He was once as passionate in every action as he is in speech." The captain shook his head fondly and sipped at his tea. "It wasn't practical -- or more importantly, practicable."

"He doesn't seem very practical, now," Ishida offered, doubtfully, considering his tea.

"No, he doesn't, but I'm secretly the irresponsible one," Ukitake made a silly face at Ishida before he continued. "It's the worst kept secret in Sereitei. Everyone suspects, but no one can prove it."

Ishida laughed, astonished, and drank his tea as he watched the light over the city turn to gold. It would be several minutes before he could ask the question that fluttered at the edge of his mind -- before he could catch it, to see what it was.


End file.
